time walking on.

roz whitlock, they/them. 36. unsouled fisher.

[rozwhitlock]

sotiris-rp​:

Roz Whitlock (they/them) is a 36-year-old Unsouled who works as a Fisherman and looks a lot like Theo Germaine.

Biography

Like many Leoran children, Roz grew up happy—the kind that comes from security, safety, and the certainty of a society where people were cared for. It felt like a promise: they’d be part of this when they grew up, just like everyone around them. 

Roz’s mana didn’t manifest when they were ten, but late bloomers weren’t uncommon. There was nothing wrong with waiting a little longer, as their parents were quick enough to reassure them. Nothing happened at fifteen either, so they waited more. Roz could be patient. Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen—the years continued to pass, but nothing changed. Their parents didn’t talk about late bloomers anymore.

Roz turned twenty and stopped waiting. 

It would be uncharitable to say their family didn’t accept them. It would be more accurate to say that they didn’t embrace them. Didn’t know what to do with them, in the end. With a younger sibling who manifested his mana at age eight, and parents with the talent to match, Roz was simply there. 

And yes, they were loved, but there was so much of their family’s life that Roz would never be able to understand. Once close with their brother, the wedge between them grew continuously as their brother’s life became more and more about the feats he could accomplish with his mana, and Roz’s life stayed the same. 

The same was true with friends they’d made at school: Roz tired quickly, bruised easier, aged faster. They’d likely die before their peers. Everyone knew it, even if it seemed people felt the polite thing was to smile blandly at them and ignore Roz’s rising bitterness. Roz learned quickly that it made people around them uncomfortable to acknowledge any of it, no matter how obvious it was that they weren’t the same. 

After growing up Unsouled, it shouldn’t surprise anyone that Roz took to the outworlders faster than most. These new species brought fresh ideas, technology, and—most importantly—individuals who were just as strange within Leoran society as Roz had always felt. 

Personality

Lonely children grow into quiet adults. Roz keeps to themself, finding more enjoyment in their job than in other people. It wasn’t necessarily one they would’ve chosen under other circumstances—they’d dreamed of engineering, once upon a time—but, like many on their planet, Roz holds a deep respect and fascination with the ocean. 

Despite everything, they’re still a Leoran at heart: they want to be useful, in the ways that they can be. They can’t build new ships or explore the depths of the ocean, but they can bring back fish. They can feed their community, and when they’re done, they can slip back out to the sea to be left alone. 

The arrival of the Collective, more than anything else, draws them back towards the shores. Here is the proof of what they’d felt all along, but didn’t have words for: it wasn’t them that was unsuited for society, but that this society wasn’t suited for people like Roz. The lack of mana cores clearly hadn’t stopped humans, Venpalans, and Beastkin from traversing the skies. 

Despite the growing suspicion of the outworlders, Roz has no qualms about embracing the change. If anything, they hope for more. They’re hungry for stories of other worlds and other people, and even moreso for the chance to experience any of it—both the good and the bad that the outworlders might bring to their home. 

Welcome home @rozwhitlock ! We're happy to have you in Sotiris.

[credinaa-deactivated20250208]

rozwhitlock​:

it’s hard to imagine what 1225 kilometers per hour would feel like, let alone double that. the bullet train and the passenger seat of an m.car are the fastest things roz has ever ridden. even those can feel fast when compared to walking or slowly guiding their boat out to sea. roz nods along though, as if they can make sense of those numbers.

the important parts are straightforward, at least—the jets are quieter than expected, and the sergeant’s already considered the risk to the plants scattered by the coastline. as for the vibrations, the further out they fly, the further down the majority of the aquatic life will be. combine that with timing their training to avoid fishing or pleasure vessels, and sasha and her students will likely be fine. and anyway, luckily for sasha and her students, leora has no shortage of ocean.

her next comment interrupts their train of thought though. “you could do that?” roz says, the surprise as obvious as their desire to take her up on the offer. 

she can no doubt read the eagerness in their expression, but roz makes their answer clear anyway. “i can probably help you either way, but that would be—amazing.”

the sergeant wants to add something, clearly satisfied with their amazement, but before she can speak her phone starts ringing. she apologizes and picks up. “yes, sir. yes. i will be there shortly. yes.” hanging up after barely a minute, she lets the phone slip back into her pocket.

“my apologies.”, sasha starts, already packing up her files and pictures, “that was my superior. i have no more time for you right now, but..” looking at the papers, she thinks a moment, “come to hangar 6 tomorrow, 7pm sharp, yeah? say you’re there for sergeant soverall and if they do not let you in-” the woman scribbles her phone number on a piece of paper and hands it to them before finally packing up her things and taking a deep breath.

“see you tomorrow!” are her last words to them before she leaves.

THE END.

[rozwhitlock]

time/date: nov 4; 15:05  location: restauraunt iri @msgallo​​

it’s a small thing. friday night, the restaurant is busy. if there isn’t a seat after all, it doesn’t have to mean anything. it’s more frustrating that the hostess first asked who else was with them, gaze drifting past roz’s shoulders like she was expecting to find a chaperone—followed immediately by a string of unnecessary clarifications, as if realizing what she was doing. by the end of it, roz is fairly certain she was more uncomfortable than they were, and it’s a relief when they slip back outside.

roz hasn’t gone far from the restaurant when they pause again though, distracted by the sight of a woman seemingly in the midst of readjusting the brace wrapped around her leg. the technology looks leoran in nature. admittedly, they’d lost their childhood interest in the specifics of leoran tech in other the years—although with the revelation of energy cores, that’s changed too. whatever the purpose of the brace though, it doesn’t seem like it’s behaving the way the woman wants. 

“need any help?” roz says. where she appears dressed up for the night, roz hasn’t bothered. they aren’t in work clothes, but they’re comfortable, and they usually have extra tools tossed in their bag for convenience in case they forget to pack something the morning of a shift—and maybe there’s a little sentimentality too, in at least one case. 

roz nods towards the brace, uncertain how to offer without crossing the same boundary they’d been so annoyed at the hostess for—assuming they couldn’t do something on their own. this woman clearly knows more than roz would about this technology. “i just mean i’ve got tools, if that would help with whatever you’re trying to do.”

[rozwhitlock]

Falling » What does your muse think about falling in love or commitment?

Roz is a deeply loyal person. In a platonic sense, they’re committed to their community and their family, even if those relationships aren’t always easy. 

Falling in love in the romantic sense seems like a wonderful thing other people do, though. This is not to say that Roz is aro, but more that they’ve distanced themself from the idea of a romantic relationship out of equal parts practicality and self-defense. 

If Roz were to find a partner (or partners) they’d be equally committed—but given the issues of infantilization the Unsouled face on Leora, the comparative rarity of other Unsouled, and the logistics of Unsouled aging at a different rate than their peers, I think they wrote the idea off young and haven’t revisited it. 

[rozwhitlock]

credinaa​:

“roz.”, she repeats their name, “i’m ever so pleased to make your acquaintance, roz.” only used to the formalities of the collective, she’s a little confused wether it’s their first name or last name, but she doesn’t ask and simply goes with it. 

“let’s talk about the engine first..it does send out some heavy vibrations depending on how fast one flies. for this training session we’re going with mach 1, i’d say..so around 1225 kilometers per hour? i’d raise training up to two, which is around double of that..well, you would definitely feel it depending on how far out we are.” the sergeant pointed towards the different engines on the paper. “noise levels are low, it’s probably the water that will make the most noise. the new generation jets are almost quiet, one could say.” she gestures towards some of the larger ships visible far away. “as loud as one of these.”

as an answer to their question, she shakes her head. “definitely not. since we land and take off at the spaceport, no greenery will be destroyed at all. unless one of my students decides to drown themselves, then, yes, greenery will be destroyed. trusting my abilities as a teacher, though..”

“since it’s useful for my colleagues, too, i can offer you a flight in one of our duo jets. you can show me the routes i could use, and you get an idea of how loud and disturbing they are.” a kind smile curls around her lips.

“it’s also quite the experience. i wouldn’t advise saying yes if you get sick easily, though. cleaning the jets is quite the..task.”

it’s hard to imagine what 1225 kilometers per hour would feel like, let alone double that. the bullet train and the passenger seat of an m.car are the fastest things roz has ever ridden. even those can feel fast when compared to walking or slowly guiding their boat out to sea. roz nods along though, as if they can make sense of those numbers.

the important parts are straightforward, at least—the jets are quieter than expected, and the sergeant’s already considered the risk to the plants scattered by the coastline. as for the vibrations, the further out they fly, the further down the majority of the aquatic life will be. combine that with timing their training to avoid fishing or pleasure vessels, and sasha and her students will likely be fine. and anyway, luckily for sasha and her students, leora has no shortage of ocean.

her next comment interrupts their train of thought though. “you could do that?” roz says, the surprise as obvious as their desire to take her up on the offer. 

she can no doubt read the eagerness in their expression, but roz makes their answer clear anyway. “i can probably help you either way, but that would be—amazing.”

[rozwhitlock]

general-indso​:

Laeponia had felt a bit silly, leaving the training wing only to return less than an hour later — but she’d had the day off, and in lieu of actual work in the frustratingly lax Leoran schedule, she’d spent the majority of the morning keeping her skills sharp. Drenched in sweat wasn’t how she would’ve preferred to present herself to her… friend?

The General didn’t exactly have friends, not on Leora, and not necessarily the young Unsouled that greeted her with an enthusiasm that made even Laeponia smile to herself. It was a vestigial bit of prejudice, she had to remind herself, but to Laeponia, the Unsouled were easier for her to stomach than the human race. She found she neither resented nor felt sorry for them, instead allowing herself to feel a sense of kinship in feeling, well. Slightly cast aside.

Even that sentiment was unnecessarily dramatic when Laeponia was well aware of how important her appointment was to the Collective, so she shrugged the feeling off as she let her smile soften, crossing the threshold to greet Roz. “These are perfect — thank you for finding a few things to bring.” She didn’t know much about Roz’s life, but assumed most of the amenities they did have must’ve been modified to suit what society viewed as their deficiency.

Not one for small talk, because when was she ever, Laeponia crossed to survey the assortment of tech. The General’s personal energy core mana translator was a bracelet of twisted silver around a replaceable shimmering crystal, relatively simple but still far too ornate for the Venpalan’s minimalist proclivities — but she was certain the Leoran jeweler would’ve expired if she asked for anything plainer, so Laeponia had let it go. Regardless, it’d become a comfortable weight at her wrist Laeponia was now thoroughly used to, and she’d picked up on the channeling of energy into devices such as these with the swift acumen she picked up anything else.

Now, she allowed a light trickle of mana to slide down her slender fingertips, reaching towards a small tactical flashlight to flick the light on with a touch, and then off again. “Should we start with this today?” It seemed like the simplest option as Laeponia settled herself into the chair opposite Roz, quietly grateful they’d gone through the trouble to produce a table and chairs for today’s practice. Laeponia set the flashlight on end between them, pointed towards the ceiling, then slid the silver cuff from her wrist and set it in front of Roz with the same subdued smile. The more she got used to using the core and integrating it with her everyday life, the less comfortable she was with someone else using it, but the sentiment was filed away as ‘silly’ as Laeponia gestured towards the flashlight. “Just have a go turning it on and off a few times.”

Their cell phone chimed beside them, flashing the translated version of the general’s words on the screen. Although imperfect, it was enough to communicate by, especially when combined with Laeponia's actions. Roz picked up the bracelet from the table gingerly, attentive as ever as they handled the energy core. It wasn’t theirs, it wasn’t something they could afford on their own, and it still surprised them she would trust them with it—but more than any of that, it was what the energy cores represented. 

This bracelet didn’t contain a true mana core, but it was the closest Roz would ever get. If Roz could afford one of their own someday, it would open up parts of Leora that they’d never thought would be theirs. They’d only tested it on small objects, like the ones littering the table now, but it felt monumental each time. How many times had they seen another Leoran casually light a flashlight like this one without even thinking? Other Leorans took that power for granted; Roz didn’t. 

So Roz reached towards the flashlight next, just as carefully. There was a moment of fear—the anxiety that, somehow, they wouldn’t be able to do this either. 

But, no. It didn’t happen as quick or as bright as Laeponia's attempt, but as they concentrated, the light flickered on and off. Roz’s face lit up in turn. They let out a surprised laugh, gaze locked onto the reedy beam of light. It was the energy core doing this, not Roz, but it was them, too. They could still feel the tingle of what they could only assume was the core’s version of mana in their fingertips, even as they broke their connection with the flashlight. 

They resisted the urge to turn towards Laeponia and ask her some version of, did you see that? Their tentative connection over the energy core was enough that Roz had some idea of Laeponia's serious nature. “I feel like it’s getting easier,” they said, gently placing Laeponia's bracelet back down on the table. Roz gestured towards it as they spoke next, curiosity about life outside of Leora getting the better of them again. “Does everyone have these on Palaven?” 

[rozwhitlock]

russovito​:

Vito stares uncomprehendingly at the cellphone in the other’s hands for a heartbeat before understanding washes through him. This must be an Unsouled. Wiping away their previous observations, the beastkin looks over the fisherman once more, a more curious expression on his face this time. While he’s been on this planet for over a month, he hasn’t run into any known Unsouled throughout that time. It seems it truly is impossible to differentiate between a Human, a Leoran, and an Unsouled from visual cues alone. 

As his pin translates the other’s words, Vito simply nods his head. He hasn’t had a chance to experience the common to leoran translation cellphone application specifically, but he’s quite familiar with the Collective’s translation apps for other languages. Simply put, they aren’t great. The Collective may be a functional alliance with a plethora of assistance programs, but unlike Leora, they operate largely as a capitalistic society bent on bleeding money from their citizens however they can. If they can charge chits for improved apps, translation pins, courses taught by a native, or implant, they’re going to.

“Nice to meet you, Roz,” the man parrots automatically, his easy smile the product of countless introductions on innumerable planets throughout his life. “Nah, just sleepless. The marina is usually empty at this time of night so I’ve found wandering the docks can be just boring enough to bring on drowsiness.” Well, that and he’d had his most interesting run-in on this planet thus far (if one discounts the fact he ran into Stell and Indigo), at the marina.

This time, the application on their cell phone is slightly faster, as if acclimated to moving between Common and Leoran now. Unfortunately, that can be a tradeoff too, leading to a translation that doesn’t look nearly as smooth this time around. That’s typical of this programming, they’ve found. It works, but not always as reliably as they’d like. It works, but not as well as what everyone else has. Roz is familiar with that feeling, though. And anyway, this is still leagues better than complete isolation from the Collective members.  

Often, Roz can use context to piece together the message regardless, but they don’t know this man well enough for that. The first part makes sense—Vito’s sleepless, and Roz can easily guess that the marina is usually emptiness is just an error with the grammar. The next part takes some deciphering. 

“You come here...because you’re bored? Or because it’s boring?” They look for confirmation, eventually flipping their phone around so Vito can see the screen. The original Common is still on the screen, alongside the attempted translation. Sometimes, when it gets like this, it’s easiest asking the other person to rephrase their sentence. Roz taps the section of Vito’s sentence that they think is the issue, resisting the urge to apologize for the app all over again. Once they’ve saved enough, they should see about purchasing an upgrade. “Can you repeat this part?”

[rozwhitlock]

credinaa​:

the person standing in front of her had to be what leorans called an ‘unsouled’, but she neither cared about supposed magic nor about whatever that meant for them. she was there to get questions answered - and if they were the one that could give her said answers, then it was a win, no matter who or what they were.

after taking a few steps forward, she pulled a dossier out of her bag, opened it and placed it on a barrel, ignoring the smell of fish (she didn’t mind it, anyway, she was used to eating fish and barely anything else). “it’s a new class, they just joined the program a few months ago. before i take them for their first training mission, i would like them to learn how to be more precise. meteorites and stars are far more dangerous than water, so i’m sure you see were i’m coming from..” 

the starfleet sergeant pointed her finger towards a few photos of the jets. “i’m not quite sure how much you know about starships and starjets? honestly, i’ll just need to know where exactly i will disturb the least fisherpeople. and what time you would deem as the best. but i could also give you a quick rundown on how much noise they make and how the engines behave near water and during low flights?”

while she waited for the fisher’s answer, sasha used the chance to analyze their appearance a little. they looked fairly normal, were quite pretty and had something really kind and welcoming to them. compared to most other fishers, they looked less drawn from life. due to that, she wasn’t quite sure if she’d addressed the right person - but she would know as soon as they answered her questions.

after double checking that their vessel was secure, roz stepped up onto the dock themself for a closer look at the dossier. “i’m roz, by the way,” they said belatedly, as they leaned in close enough to see the details of the aircraft in the photos. sasha was correct in assuming that they didn’t know much about the collective’s ships, but they wanted to. 

leorans had invented amazing technology, but nothing native to their planet could take people up to the meteorites and the stars—and even if they did, roz imagined it would run on mana. everything the collective brought was unfamiliar that way, created by the ingenuity of species that didn’t have mana at their fingertips. who could blame roz for their fascination? 

“a rundown on the engine and the noise levels would be great,” roz said. convenient, that their natural curiosity aligned with the information they’d need to help the sergeant anyway. “do fighter jets have the same impact on plants that the starships do?” they looked back to sasha now, thinking of the lack of greenery around the spaceport. 

there were areas of the coastline with sparse foliage, although the noise levels might still be a concern for the wildlife. that would likely prove more complicated than working around roz and their fellow fishers, but they’d help sasha find a way—in part because they wanted to watch the jets arcing across the sky.

[rozwhitlock]

Spiders » Does your muse squish bugs or put them outside?

Roz definitely puts insects back outside. Honestly, assuming they aren't harmful to food supplies, indoor greenery, or anyone living inside, Roz doesn't mind letting some bugs hang out in their house and find their own way outside later. 

There may be some who wouldn’t see Roz as the typical Leoran, but Leoran culture still heavily shaped their childhood and thus their views now in their adult life. They grew up tending to a garden in the backyard and decorating their house with terrariums (including the clean-up crew of helpful bugs inside any closed systems to handle moss and plant debris). Their job now involves carefully fishing in methods and amounts that still ensure the local ecosystem thrives. Insects are an important part of that ecosystem!

[rozwhitlock]

local time: 30 october 2022. noon.  location: city center. leoran market.

While enjoying the festivities of the Food & Wine Festival, you begin to notice a distinctive change in your vision. Colors begin to gently shift and blur until you perceive the world in painted brushstrokes. You have been dosed with a large amount of the Collective drug Dorian.

Before the Collective, Roz might’ve avoided an event like this one. It isn’t the crowd, although it’s sometimes a shock to the system after their normally quiet days. It’s the way anything remotely alcoholic makes their own community look at them like they’re a child—it isn’t lost on them that it was easier to steal drinks when they were a child, and it was just school kids playing at adulthood. Their friends from back then grew into something new, though, and Roz didn’t.

But like so many things now, the promise of learning more about the other worlds beyond their own calls them to the first annual festival each weekend. They like the name too: first, like the council plans to do this each year, like Leora will continue to evolve around them. Roz is happy enough to focus on the stalls run by members of the Collective today, sampling from plates of unfamiliar foods and drinks. 

Their cell phone translator can’t keep up with the background noise and the side conversations, of course, leaving them lost half of the time. Last week, Roz remembers the frustration over that. Today, the distance makes the event feel almost dreamlike. 

It’s hard to feel bad, anyway, as they find themself a seat on a nearby bench, watching people from varying planets walk past. The slight breeze is warm as it blows past, causing the florals and greenery around them to rustle and shimmer slightly in the sunlight. Despite their fascination with the Collective and what they bring, Roz will never deny their love for their home planet. Leora is beautiful.

They trace the path of the breeze through the plants around them, eventually finding themself staring at the swirls of warm green, vivid yellow, and golden brown in a nearby tree. It stretches up tall above the market, nature intertwined with community in typical Leoran fashion. Roz watches a single point on the bark long enough that the edges of their vision go soft and indistinct. 

That doesn’t go away when Roz blinks, though. Nor does it go away when they reorient themself to the bench and their body, the slightly sweetened drink in their hands that was supposed to be some kind of juice. Even that looks softer, with the pale colors of the drink, the translucent glass, and their own hand holding it all melting together.

If they’d noticed it sooner, before the sensation settled in, maybe they would’ve been concerned. Instead, it’s fascinating—from the well-worn patterns on the soles of their shoes to the composition of blues in the sky above them, the shift in their vision grows more evident as the moments tick by.

Their cell phone is, for once, forgotten by their side. Roz still catches the announcement when it comes though, particularly as it echoes throughout tablets and phones throughout the festival. The word Dorian gives them language for what they’re seeing, although there doesn’t seem to be an explanation yet for why someone did this. Roz trusts the council, though. Anyway, the quiet calm they feel and the unique perspective of the world Dorian’s brought them don’t feel threatening. They’ve already found a comfortable spot on the bench, so Roz sits back, tilts their head up to the sky, and enjoys the view.

[rozwhitlock]

october ask meme:

Abandonment  » How would your muse win back someone who left them?

Blood  » What’s the worst injury your muse has ever had?

Boogeyman  »  What was your muse’s greatest fear as a child?

Change  »  What was a turning point in your muse’s life?

Closet Monsters  »  Does your muse hide aspects of their life from others?

Clowns  »  Does your muse prefer comedy? Or horror?

Crowds  »  What does your muse think of industrial cities?

Curses  »  Does your muse believe in luck? How about karma?

Death  »  Name one thing your muse has lost that they wish they could get back.

Disease  »  What does your muse do on a sick day?

Dolls  »  Has your muse ever collected something?

Failure  »  Has your muse ever given up on an important dream?

Falling  »  What does your muse think about falling in love or commitment?

Fire  »  Would your muse rather be very cold, or very hot?

Getting Old  »  Would your muse rather live 50 years loved, or 200 years alone?

Ghosts  »  Has your muse ever seen something they couldn’t explain?

Heights  »  Is your muse a risk-taker?

Insects  »  Name something your muse finds gross or annoying.

Mirrors  »  What is your muse’s least favorite thing about their appearance?

Needles  »  Does your muse have a strong stomach?

Noise  »  Name one sound your muse finds absolutely unbearable.

Number 13  »  Does your muse believe any superstitions?

Snakes  »  Would your muse ever keep an unusual/exotic pet?

Social Phobia  »  Does your muse enjoy family gatherings?

Solitude  »  Name 3 things your muse couldn’t live without.

Spiders  »  Does your muse squish bugs or put them outside?

The Dark  »  Did your muse sleep with a nightlight as a child?

The Unknown  »  Is your muse a philosophical person?

Tight Space  »  Does your muse fear they’re not living up to their own potential?

[rozwhitlock]

16th October, 2022 / training rooms. @general-indso​​​

The training facilities lingered in that uncomfortable in-between for Roz. Technically speaking, there was nothing strange about them spending time here. They could adjust the Collective equipment scattered throughout the building for any species, including Unsouled Leoran. Practically speaking, without even iron rank, they were always going to be one of the weakest Leorans. 

They didn’t want to feel self-conscious about that fact, but what they wanted to feel wasn’t the same as the truth. Easier to leave the training facility alone, and let their job keep them strong—as strong as they could be, at least. 

Today, though, they’d ventured in past the main training areas, waiting instead in one of the open multipurpose rooms. The space was empty enough for dancing or sparring, although as with any Leoran architecture there was greenery climbing the walls and curling down from arches in the ceiling. For today, Roz had dragged in a table and a mismatched set of chairs. General Indso seemed too dignified to sit on the floor. 

Roz was a loyal Leoran, but sometimes, they liked the outworlders better—today felt like one of those times, as they stared at the eclectic collection of basic tech they’d piled onto the table. Simple things, but things that would be useless in Roz’s hands alone, even with the revelation of the energy cores. It would be a long, long time before they could afford one of their own.

Somehow, though, General Indso didn’t mind letting Roz practice with hers. They brightened when they saw her at the doorway now, giving her a half-smile from where they sat cross-legged in one of the chairs. “I didn’t know what would work best,” they said, gesturing towards the table. 

It was easy to think of things they couldn’t use, but not as easy to figure out what would transport easily. They’d love to learn to drive, for example, but they could hardly fit an m.car into the training facility or ask the General to teach them something so complex. They’d settled on what they could find around their house—small appliances their family likely wouldn’t need this afternoon, flashlights forgotten in emergency kits, a portable radio.

Typically reserved, they didn’t bother hiding their excitement over the Collective’s tech, the energy cores, the hope that this could become the norm on their planet. Until the Collective, they’d taken it for granted: Unsouled meant they were missing something essential, meant they could never do the same things as the rest of Leora. They couldn’t imagine anyone saying that about the likes of General Indso or the other Starfleet members. “But they all run on mana, at least.”

[credinaa-deactivated20250208]

marina, october 17th, late afternoon, @rozwhitlock​

if you fish and catch nothing, you have still caught a lesson

growing up on venpalan, sasha had always challenged herself to do certain things. it didn’t matter if it was something simple like going for a run before work or something more extreme like sneaking out at 30 years to go watch some shooting stars at 4am when she was supposed to be up at 6 for something important. it wasn’t only her father that gave her the idea to join the collective starfleet academy, it was also her love for challenges. and the training definitely was a challenge - but she had loved every second of it (even the nasty failures, that had pushed her to work even harder). 

ever since she had started teaching students at academy how to fly, she had learned that the most important thing to teach then was that life was both full of challenges and they didn’t simply fly for fun, but that it was their job and not exactly as easy as most of them thought. most of the students had started to love challenges as much as she did back then and still did, so she started to try and make her lessons more fun - and more challenging.

this required some preparations, though, and these exact preparations made her go to marina right after she finished work on monday. taking a look at the harbor and maybe find someone she could ask all the questions she had was on her agenda for today - and the person standing on their boat with a net in their hands looked kind enough for her to clear her throat, get into a appropriate pose and to speak while getting down a few stairs down to the path their boat was currently bound to. 

“good evening.”, she started, her accent allowing them to foreshadow that she wasn’t a native leoran, but her expression was kind and curious, “if you couldn’t already tell by my uniform, i am a sergeant of the collective starfleet. my name is sasha soverall, i train young pilots. you seem experienced with working here, would you mind answering me a few questions? i am currently planning low-flight fighter jet training sessions above water and i really do not want to disturb nature or fishers.” 

[rozwhitlock]

as their workday came to a close, roz went through the familiar routine of wrapping up: storing unused netting, cleaning up the boat, double checking their supplies for tomorrow. 

meditation, for roz, didn’t come with the same benefits. there was no mana to develop, no magic to connect with—but there was something to be said for the act of dedicating themself wholly to a task, letting themself be attentive to the sound of the waves lapping at their boat, the feeling of the wood beneath their feet. it wasn’t quite meditation, but they’d always found it almost as soothing.

they paused at the sound of an unfamiliar voice though, turning to see an equally unfamiliar blonde woman approaching. her request was just as unexpected—both because they’d never considered the possibility of starfleet training expanding all the way to the water’s edge, and because she wanted to ask roz for advice. they weren’t often invited into the role of expert.

of course, sasha soverall wasn’t leoran despite evidently knowing their language. she might not know that roz’s job and the simplistic boat they stood on all but confirmed them as Unsouled—or maybe she didn’t think of it the same way the leorans did. 

“evening,” they called back, setting the net down for now. their answer was predictable. “i’m just about done here—how can i help?”

[rozwhitlock]

russovito​:

Russo approaches casually, unhurried as he draws ever closer to the vessel and the lone fisherman about to depart for the night. Morning? A bit of both if he’s being honest, teetering on the brink between one and the other. As the now-familiar lilt of Leoran reaches him, the bud in his left ear begins to translate. Vito started attending the lectures on Leoran at the University a week ago, but he’s far from fluent, so the translator pin and accompanying earbud are a new constant in his life.

“Hey,” he replies in common, assuming the other’s implant will do the translating for him. “Nah, I don’t need anything; just heard some noises and decided to check it out.” He gestures down to his uniform, “I’m not on duty or anything, just wandering.” There’s a pause as he decides whether or not to continue the conversation. On one hand, this individual is obviously just working and thus not doing anything of nefarious (nor particularly interesting), so he doesn’t really need to hang around. On the other hand, it’d be a bit strange for him to interrupt and then leave abruptly.

“Name’s Vito. You headin’ out for the day? Tides seem right for it, not that I’m an expert or anything.”

As the man walks closer, the Starfleet uniform becomes unmistakable. An outworlder then. Luckily, Roz’s cell phone is still a novelty—although admittedly, they doubt they’ll ever tire of it. They stash it on their boat even for solitary days, close enough that Roz has it in hand before the man finishes speaking.

“Sorry. It takes a second,” Roz says, well aware that their phone isn't as fast as an implant. They're silent for a moment, squinting at the screen as it registers the sentences in Common, then translates them into the more familiar Leoran script. 

The delay itself doesn't bother them. After all, cell phones are a new piece of technology, translating the words of someone from another planet. A year ago, none of this would've been possible. Still, though, it must be easier to speak to the average Leoran, with the convenience of an implant on their side.

The translation finishes, and Roz turns their attention back to the stranger—Vitto. “Roz,” they introduce themself in turn. “Just about ready, yeah.” They hesitate, torn between letting the conversation lapse, and the natural curiosity they’ve felt towards the outworlders since the moment Roz learned of them. The latter wins, as it often does these days. There will be moonlight to fish by for hours yet. “What about you? Wandering anywhere in particular?"

[rozwhitlock]

tiagoixora​:

“Ah, but you don’t have the foggiest idea what your catch actually is.” 

Tiago favoured Roz with a condescending smile, his fingers moving along the ligament that the bladders hung from, making them bob and dance in the air. It really was an excellent specimen. “Before I took over this restaurant,” he said, “and made it the best in Sotiris, I used to do diving expeditions. There were plenty of things I learned about but never had use for, until now.”

Roz was sour, but that was to be expected. Tiago was accustomed to it and it didn’t upset him any; Roz was a tradesperson, after all, here to provide a service. Tiago didn’t expect any fine manners, but he did like having an audience even if it was sullen.

Beckoning Roz even closer, Tiago held up the line of bladders. “Some of the water creatures,” he said in a more hushed, rapturous tone, “the ones who live in colder waters, for some reason, have developed small organs like this. You’re looking at the fish equivalent of a mana core.”

He didn’t wait for Roz to protest, laughing merrily and riposting his own comment: “I know, I know – animals already have mana stones! But these are different. At least, that’s my theory. I think it’s an evolutionary step between mana stones and cores. Maybe it’s natural, maybe it’s the result of some scientists genetically modifying creatures that were let loose back into the wild, to see what happens naturally, but they’re different. I’m pretty sure they’re different.” 

Tiago squinted harder at one of the pearls, jerking erratically within one bladder’s fluid. “Here,” he said abruptly, thrusting the whole strand at Roz. “You have a knife, I’m sure. Cut that one open.”

Roz crossed their arms, not making any moves towards a blade or the bladders, even when Tiago shoved the strand closer. “Interesting theory.” They didn’t sound interested. They did stare though, watching the pearls inside jump and spin with the movement. What would it mean if even the creatures around Leora could do what Roz couldn’t? 

They couldn’t tell if it was truly ridiculous, or if they just wanted it to be. They couldn’t stand Tiago, but that didn’t mean he was lying. Roz couldn’t think of why he would lie about this. He was too self-absorbed to spin a tale just to upset Roz. Frankly, Roz doubted he thought about them enough to care what they felt.

They swallowed, hard, and tore their gaze away. “What makes you think they’re different?”

And, yes, Roz had a knife. Tiago wasn’t wrong about that, even if he might be wrong about these creatures. Roz often had more than one on them, depending on the job that needed doing. Fish often needed to be gutted and cleaned before delivering (the bulk to restaurants and shops; the remains to compost), lines needed to be cut, reef nets needed to be occasionally overhauled to ensure safe release of any accidental bycatch. Menial to some, but it always left Roz with the quiet sense of a job well done. 

They liked to be helpful. But it was Tiago ordering them around now, and that was enough to make them stubborn. Petulant, maybe, would be a more accurate description. “Left my knife on the boat,” Roz lied. “You don’t have any here? It’s a restaurant.” 

[nelliebieti-deactivated20230225]

Status: Open Location: A drink place, Plaza de Sotiris

Nellie had a penchant for theft. Well, that and mischief, and play pretend, and putting together a costume for whatever game they’re playing. Today, they played a different game: taking a uniform for a shop, pretending to be an emergency replacement for a shift, and going out to serve drinks (non-alcoholic, I’m afraid) to the very patrons that Nellie was simultaneously pick-pocketing.

“And here’s your drinks,” Nellie said, eyeing a potential target across the table. “Which one of you got the, er…” Nellie read off a scribbled note on their tray. “…dragonfruit lime-sublime?”

[rozwhitlock]

They’re the pleasant kind of tired. They don’t work significantly more hours than the average Leoran—even if they keep a different schedule—but there’s no getting around the fact that their job requires manual labor. 

They aren’t home yet, though. It isn’t strange to live with their family in a society as communal as theirs, but it can be—difficult. Especially when it isn’t necessarily by choice. The logistics of finding an apartment of their own when most require daily mana exhausts them to think about. It’s felt more limiting lately though. There are places specifically created for Starfleet members now, built to run without mana by design. 

Roz drags their feet before going back home, sometimes. This is one of those days, and it finds Roz in one of the many establishments in the Plaza de Sotiris instead. It’s early enough in the evening that the drinks on the menu are refreshing more than alcoholic—which suits them just fine, given the reaction they’ve received the few times they’ve tried to order alcohol as someone Unsouled.

“Uh,” they start, ineloquent, when an employee materializes in front of them. Somehow, they’re halfway surprised despite sitting in a restaurant. “Not mine, sorry.” They look towards the tables near them, but no one there claims the drink either. “If it helps, I ordered a tea.”

[russovito]

local time: 11 october 2022. 00:45 location: west sotiris. marina. vito russo + @rozwhitlock

The insomnia was back and quite a bit worse than the last time around. Sleeplessness was a quasi-constant in Vito's life, coming and going with randomness that made preventing or curing his insomnia near impossible. He'd already trained for several hours and knew if he pushed his body any further he would end up with an injury - so he was walking.

Over the past month, the marina had become his favorite place to stroll at night. The way moonlight reflected off the water, as well as the distinct lack of people most nights, made the location ideal for wandering. Tonight, though, he heard the distinct sound of a watercraft being readied. Briefly, he remembers the run-in he'd had with Tiago and the large thug, but he points his feet toward the sound and heads off anyway.

With no voices to be heard and the sound relatively localized, Vito soon determines the individual is alone. It's not that strange, many of the personal pleasure craft are outfitted for one to two passengers, but he's entered a section that appears to be full of fishing vessels.

Securing the jacket of his Starfleet uniform closed, the beastkin walks out underneath the marina's lights as his large black eyes scope out the craft, looking for the person readying to ship out.

[rozwhitlock]

It’s too early—or too late, depending on who you asked—for most people to be out on the marina. There are certain fish that are only found in the moonlight though, drawn closer to the surface without the heat of the sun to chase them away. 

Roz prefers late nights and early mornings anyway, particularly near the water. It’s calm out here, and they can’t always feel that closer to the city. Here, at this hour, Roz is alone with their thoughts as they kneel down and prepare for their workday. The routine is as automatic as it is comfortable. 

It’s a surprise then, when Roz catches movement in the corner of their eye. They pause midway through sorting their gear, angling towards the source. They don’t recognize the man walking along the docks, but that means little. Leoran at heart despite it all, they choose to assume the best when they can.

They stand, briefly abandoning their preparations. The ship is still dark, so Roz steps closer to the dock, letting the lights from the marina shine down on them as well. “Need something?”